


we're a work in progress

by blazeofglory



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, First Dates, Fluff, Rule 63, Self Confidence Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 02:25:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3273290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blazeofglory/pseuds/blazeofglory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dating Enjolras is a <i>dream</i>, but Grantaire can't help but worry that she's going to mess it up somehow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we're a work in progress

**Author's Note:**

  * For [whooves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whooves/gifts).



> Prompt: “Enjolras and Grantaire as ladies, beginning a relationship. Maybe a first date? (any rating is okay!)”
> 
> I hope I did this justice! I was originally planning porn, but then feelings happened instead.

****

Grantaire didn’t know what to say. God knows she _never_ knew what to say around Enjolras, but this time was different. They were sitting opposite each other at a restaurant Grantaire had never been to, reading their menus and sharing small smiles whenever they looked over at each other. It wasn’t quite _awkward_ , but Grantaire felt out of her depth. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been on a proper date—hell, even her last one night stand had been at least six months ago. Dating Enjolras was definitely something to be nervous about.

“I have no idea what I want to eat,” Enjolras said after a moment, setting her open menu down on the table, looking sheepish. Grantaire grinned, just barely suppressing the urge to tell Enjolras she could think of _something_ she could eat.

“Pasta?” Grantaire suggested instead, grinning. Enjolras smiled back, her pretty lips painted red, and she took a sip of her wine, leaving a red smudge behind. Grantaire couldn’t help but stare at her for a second, because _fuck_ , she was gorgeous. Enjolras was always perfect, always beautiful, but tonight she was… Ethereal. Other-worldly.

Enjolras had obviously curled her hair (or had Courfeyrac do it, which was more likely), and it was almost odd to see her pretty face framed in soft curls instead of her usual straight-ish waves. Gone was her usual makeup, too. No soft brown eyeshadow and pink lipstick today; her eyeliner was winged and her lips were red. Enjolras had obviously put forth a special amount of effort for this date, and that… did things to Grantaire’s heart. Soft, fuzzy things.

“What about this?” Enjolras asked, then read off a description from the menu that Grantaire didn’t listen to; she was too busy wondering what that silky hair would feel like under her hands. If she pulled it, would Enjolras moan? And, oh, if she got the chance to kiss her, what would they look like? Her own maroon lipstick and Enjolras’ red would both smudge everywhere, leaving an artistic mess of evidence all of their mouths… Enjolras raised a brow at her, and Grantaire blushed suddenly, realizing that she’d been staring at the blonde’s lips instead of listening and answering whatever she’d just said.

“Um,” Grantaire said, glancing down at her menu then back over at Enjolras, who was looking rather amused. “Okay, you know I have no idea what you just said.”

“Obviously,” Enjolras agreed, a grin spreading across her face. She closed her menu, sliding it away from her. “You know, I don’t like dates much.”

It was Grantaire’s turn to raise a brow. Her heart jumped at the suggestion in those words; she really hoped she wasn’t imagining it. “No, neither do I. I’m no good at fancy dinners.”

“I’m not even sure I’m hungry,” Enjolras replied, a familiar gleam in her eyes that meant she had a great idea. Grantaire had never seen that look outside of Amis meetings before; seeing it directed at her was something new and exciting. Those pretty blue eyes almost seemed like they were mentally undressing her, and Grantaire flushed all over again, nervous and pleased. God, how was this even really happening?

“We should just get out of here then,” Grantaire finally suggested, downing the last of the wine in her glass. Enjolras did the same, then stood up, tossing some money on the table. Any other time, Grantaire would have offered to pay, or at least go half and half, but she was distracted again—Enjolras’ ass in those tight jeans was really something to behold.

As they walked out of the restaurant, Grantaire tentatively brushed her hand against Enjolras’, a silent request for permission. Enjolras said nothing, but she smiled a small smile and laced their fingers together. Grantaire’s heart was beating fast in her chest, so full it could burst; never in her wildest dreams had she ever imagined this going so well. Enjolras even agreeing to go out with her had been a pleasant surprise.

“We can get dinner properly another time,” Enjolras said out of the blue, halfway to Grantaire’s apartment. The brunette glanced over at her, and to her surprise, Enjolras was blushing as she continued, “I can think of something I’d rather eat right now.”

Grantaire halted, and Enjolras jerked to a stop next to her on the sidewalk.

“Did you just—?” Grantaire burst out laughing, shaking her head a little. She felt a rush of affection and, unsurprisingly, lust. “Oh my god, you did. You made a joke about eating out.”

Enjolras’ blush darkened, but she was smiling. “Maybe.”

Grantaire kept laughing as they resumed walking. They didn’t talk much for the rest of the way, but Enjolras’ hand was warm in hers, and Grantaire found it hard to stay nervous. Somehow, against all odds, Enjolras liked her. Enjolras _wanted_ to be out with her, had even done her hair all nice and was wearing a push-up bra, and she was making jokes about giving her head. Grantaire would have to be blind and deaf to not know she was wanted.

The second they made it inside Grantaire’s little apartment (well, it was Jehan’s too, but they were out for the night), Enjolras gently backed her up against the closed door. Grantaire’s heart caught in her throat at the way Enjolras was looking at her, hungry and intrigued and—why weren’t they kissing yet? Enjolras’ hands were on her arms, holding her in place, and Grantaire’s were on her waist, resting tentatively.

“Is this okay?” Enjolras asked softly, biting her bottom lip. She was so _beautiful_ , Grantaire couldn’t help but lean up, seeking a kiss, but Enjolras was taller and she leaned back, not giving Grantaire what she wanted. “Tell me it’s okay first.”

Grantaire rolled her eyes; she should’ve known Enjolras would be super consent-crazy. “Yes, it’s _okay._ Actually kiss me, and then maybe it’ll be _better_ than okay.”

Apparently, that was all Enjolras needed, because next, she was leaning in, her eyes fluttering shut and her pretty lips getting closer. Grantaire met her halfway, and when their lips touched, she made a soft noise, pressing as close as possible.

Enjolras kissed just like she did everything else in her life: thoroughly, and to the best of her abilities. And, _oh_ , her abilities were astounding. The kiss was only chaste for a second before Enjolras pressed harder, closer, her teeth biting at Grantaire’s bottom lip and her tongue in her mouth, eliciting a soft moan. So focused on the movement of Enjolras’ lips against hers, Grantaire hadn’t even noticed the other girl’s hands moving until her warm hands were sliding under her shirt, just resting on her waist.

“Is this okay?” Enjolras asked again, only pulling back an inch. Grantaire huffed.

“Unless I say otherwise, just assume everything is good, yeah?”

Enjolras rolled her eyes, but they fluttered shut again as Grantaire finally slid her hands into her soft hair, tugging gently at her curls. They were as silky as they looked, and Enjolras moaned softly when Grantaire tugged harder. The brunette grinned. “Is this okay?” she teased.

Enjolras took a step back, and Grantaire’s hands fell. For a second, she was worried she’d offended her, but Enjolras was kicking off her shoes; not leaving. The blonde glanced up, blushing a little. “Can we go to your room?”

“Yes. Yeah, definitely,” Grantaire agreed eagerly, kicking off her shoes too. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss Enjolras again, then grabbed her hand and led her to the bedroom. Her heart was pounding; her nerves were back. She wanted this, and she knew Enjolras did too, but Enjolras was _gorgeous_ and Grantaire was… not. She had weird scars, a pudgy stomach, too much hair, fat thighs, her second toe was longer than her first… But all those thoughts fled her mind when Enjolras pushed her down on the mattress, immediately climbing on top of her and kissing her again.

Grantaire slid her hands up the back of Enjolras’ shirt, her palms flat over smooth, warm skin until she reached her bra. She hesitated for a second, her hand resting on the clasp without doing anything, until Enjolras murmured _“Yes_ ” into her mouth. She got the clasp undone in a second, but before she could get her hands on Enjolras, the blonde sat up. Grantaire watched in awe as the other girl pulled off her shirt and tossed it aside, her bra following a second later.

Enjolras met her eyes confidently, and _fuck_ , if Grantaire looked like her, she’d be confident as hell too. Grantaire hardly had time to appreciate the sight before Enjolras was kissing her again. The blonde’s hands made their way under her shirt, and with her nerves fluttering around like anxious butterflies in her stomach, Grantaire rolled them over so she was on top. Her shirt could come off later, if at all.

“Still okay?” Enjolras asked, obviously noticing Grantaire’s reluctance. The brunette shrugged, a blush forming on her cheeks, and _god_ , she felt so stupid. She finally had Enjolras in her bed, and she was too nervous to go along with it. Reluctantly, she moved off of her, laying on the bed next to her. They were quiet for a minute.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” Enjolras said softly. When Grantaire looked over, she caught the blonde’s eye; Enjolras looked nothing less than 100% sincere and sweet. Her blue eyes were shining, there was smudged lipstick all over her mouth, and she was still half naked. She was so beautiful it _hurt_. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Grantaire looked away. “I just don’t want to mess this up,” she admitted, staring up at the ceiling. She found herself wishing for a drink. “I don’t—I don’t want to be a disappointment.”

Enjolras made an indignant sound and reached for Grantaire’s hand. The artist held tight. “You won’t disappoint me. I like you, and I want you.”

“It’s almost unbelievable,” Grantaire said honestly. “ _You_ wanting _me._ ”

“True, though,” Enjolras persisted firmly. “I would never lie.”

Grantaire looked at her again. “I think it’s going to take me a bit to adjust to that.”

Enjolras’ answering smile was wide and beautiful. “We have time.”


End file.
